


Taken

by Torched22



Category: Smallville
Genre: Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Kidnapping, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 23:35:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20647556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torched22/pseuds/Torched22
Summary: Clark Kent has been kidnapped.





	1. Chapter 1

One thing that drew people to Smallville, or perhaps kept the people who lived there in town, was its idyllic small town charm. There may not have been a lot in the way of shopping, but Smallville offered things that the big city didn't. There was a sense of community, a belonging, a closeness. Which made it even harder for Clark to keep his secrets close to the vest. Luckily, one thing he had going for him was the distance between farms. He could do his chores quickly, without being seen. And he'd somehow managed to save scores of citizens while keeping his secret as well. It didn't matter if dozens of meteor freaks in Belle Reeve were espousing rumors of Clark Kent's "powers," because no one would listen to them anyway.

It was a sad reality. But a true one. And it had been so ground into Clark from day one that he MUST protect his secret that he let sleeping dogs lie. 

Some nights he would choose to spend in the loft, letting the sounds of crickets chirping lull him to sleep. It was usually those nights when he felt guilty...that he spent in the loft. Guilt over lying to his friends. Guilt over letting the meteor freaks be seen as liars and rot in Belle Reeve. There was a lot of guilt. And more often than not, Clark found himself straining to save as many people as humanly possible to assuage that guilt - to push it down and drown it out. Sometimes he even thought to himself, in the deepest recesses of his mind, that he deserved to be punished. 

But not like this. 

Not like how he was currently being punished. 

Clark was scared. Really actually scared. Not just worried, not anxious, but flat out - hyperventilating, tingly fingers, legs-like-jelly, heart in his throat - scared. 

It had been two and a half days since he'd been home. Two and a half days since he'd seen his mother's smile, since he smelled the crisp fall air, since he'd felt the sun's rays warm his skin. 

He twisted and the shackles cut into his wrists. 

He wouldn't even have known that two and a half days had passed if his captor hadn't informed him. It was dark. The ground beneath him was cold and the tiny room smelled of urine, sweat, and fear. He shivered and the restraints clanked. He had learned only a few hours in to not bother asking questions. He didn't want to cry but the unshed tears stung at his eyes.

\------

The last place Martha had thought she'd ever go for help was looming larger and larger in the truck's windshield. The gothic mansion that had once housed Clark's best friend now held his bitter ex-best friend. Marrying Lana was a particularly low blow and Lex knew it. It made Martha wonder why she had ever given Lex the benefit of the doubt. 

As gravel crunched beneath the worn tires, she remembered how the implosion of Clark and Lex's friendship affected her son. 

As if Jonathan's death weren't enough - the fallout of said friendship only doubled Clark's depression. 

Outwardly, her son appeared fine, but she knew better than to believe that lie. He had become withdrawn. He didn't eat as much as he used to and he certainly didn't talk as much as he had in the past. A quiet, withdrawn stranger had taken the place of her son and she didn't know how to get him back. 

And then there were the unspoken things...like how Clark actually felt about Lex. After the billionaire married Lana, Martha had expected Clark to mourn the loss of his first love. But his attention seemed focused on Lex - on losing him - and not Lana.

Martha was no fool, she'd been around the block. She had always noticed the way that Lex looked at her son with such adoration and warmth and...desire. There were times even, when she saw Clark reflecting those things back to Lex. She loved her son dearly, but he certainly could be a bit...blind...to certain things. Did he ever know that Lex wanted him? Did he piece together that Lex only took Lana as a means to 'get back at' him? To have and hold something that he once had and held?

The car sat, sputtering, in the gravel drive. She cut the ignition and opened the squeaky door. 

\-------


	2. Chapter 2

The last person Lex had expected to walk through the mansion doors was Martha Kent, yet...here she was. The doorman ushered her in and led her to the study where he and Lana awaited, wondering what this was about. She strolled through the office as swiftly as if she were just dropping off produce, but her facial expression was fraught with concern. By the time Martha could bring herself to Lex's doorstep for help it had been three, nearly four days since...

"Mrs. Kent," Lana said warmly, coming towards her with open arms. "What brings you here?" She embraced her son's ex-girlfriend and tried a small smile, but failed at it. The pair broke apart. Lex was sauntering towards them with his hands in his pockets. 

"It's good to see you Mrs. Kent," Lex offered. 

"You too Lex," she nodded. "I wish I was coming here under better circumstances though."

"Why? What's going on?" Lana asked, concern tinging her words.

Martha was biting her bottom lip, worrying her hands together, swallowing as she tried to formulate the words.

"What is it?" Lex echoed.

"It's Clark," she clenched her jaw after saying the words, fighting back the tears that stung at her eyes. "I know that you're not friend anymore..." her voice cracked on the last word, "but I didn't know where else to turn. The police aren't taking this seriously." 

Lana's eyes were huge. "The police? Not taking what seriously?" 

"Clark's missing." 

The married couple exchanged a look between them and then fixed their eyes back on Martha. 

"No one has seen him for three and a half days."

Lex motioned to the sofa. "Come, have a seat, tell us more. Would you like a water?" 

"No, thank you," she moved towards the snow white sofa and sat across from the Luthors. She folded her hands in her lap and failed at keeping the tears at bay. She batted one away before it even had the chance to fall. 

"I wish I could tell you more, but I don't know more," she gulped. "I know that one night, Clark went to sleep in the loft and the next morning, he missed his chores. I went looking for him and he just...vanished. I can feel it...in the pit of my stomach...that something is wrong. Very wrong." 

Lex shifted in his seat. "Mrs. Kent," he angled, "I don't mean to downplay the situation but...hasn't Clark disappeared before?" 

Martha's eyes narrowed. 

"Like that summer he went to Metropolis for three months?" Lex tried to say gently. "I know I was lost on that god forsaken island but I've heard about it."

"This isn't like that."

"How do you know?" 

"That entire situation was different," her cheeks and ears burned red with indignation. Fury swept through her at an alarming rate, but she kept it at bay. "Even when he left that summer, he told us he was leaving...he took a vehicle. Both trucks are still at the farm."

"Someone could have picked him up..."

"He wouldn't leave me to worry like this," she nearly snapped. "That time, that summer was different."

"How?" 

She scoffed. "Maybe this was a mistake," she stared into the oblivion of Lex's lavender button-down and muttered the exclamation mostly to herself.

"It wasn't a mistake. You can always come to us." 

"To you maybe," Martha answered quickly. "But it seems that Lex just wants...dirt...on Clark." 

"That's not it at all," he held out his hands to calm her. "I'm just trying to understand how this is different and if it warrants alarm."

"I'm his mother, sitting here, telling you it warrants alarm," her tone was brittle as cracking ice. "You want dirt? You want truths? That summer he ran away, he left because his life was literally falling apart," her voice split again and tears slid down her cheeks. "His life right now isn't picture perfect, but nothing earth shattering has happened." 

"But it had then?" 

"Yes. It had. And he turned to a drug to help him feel better." 

Both Lex's and Lana's face dawned with fresh shock. 

"He made a lot of mistakes that summer and regretted it fiercely. It was an overreaction - or a suitable reaction - to a very tough situation. He has learned and grown tremendously since then and he would never turn to that drug again. He would never turn to running away again - especially since Jonathan's dead. He's all I have and he knows it, he would never leave like this."

"And you went to the police?" Lana interjected.

"Of course. They say they're on it, but...they're the Smallville Sheriff's Department...it took them three months just to fix the broken coffee pot in the station. I'm not holding my breath for them."

"And what could we do?" Lex queried.

Martha shook her head. "Honestly? I don't know Lex. But I believe that he could have been kidnapped...that he may be in a hole somewhere getting tortured...and if I don't exhaust every resource to find him, I'll never forgive myself."

"Because of his secret?" Lex said. 

The honesty knocked Martha off her game. She was silent.

"Do you think someone figured out Clark's secret and took him because of that?" 

"And what do you know of Clark's secrets?" Martha asked.

"I know that Clark is very secretive. I believed, and still believe, that I hit him with my Porsche at 60 miles an hour and he walked away without a scratch. But that begs the question, if he's infallible, does anyone know that? Would the military steal him away? And if he is as special as I think he is, could he even be kidnapped or hurt? Doubtful." 

Martha put her hands on her knees and stood, flicking away the falling tears. 

Lex and Lana immediately stood as well. 

"You know, I always believed Clark when he told me that there was good in you," she stared at Lex. "You may have your theories about Clark, Lex, but you don't know anything." 

"And I'm assuming that just as with him, I won't be getting answers about those theories from you?" 

"His secrets are his, they're not mine to tell, and certainly not to his ex-best friend whom he loved dearly - who broke his heart - who threw him into a depression so all consuming that there were times I didn't even..." she stopped abruptly. Lex's expression had shifted. He looked fragile suddenly. 

Her head was pounding and more tears were knocking at the door, waiting to fall. 

"I don't know who could have taken him or why," she said honestly, "but I know that every second I don't know where he is..." her voice shook, unsteady atop the current of swelling emotions, "...is another second he could be in mortal danger." 

She adjusted the purse on her shoulder and began walking towards the great oak doors leading from the study. 

"Mrs. Kent," Lana reached for her elbow and Martha let herself be stopped. "If Clark's in trouble, we want to help."

"Are you sure about that Lana? You may want to help, but does your husband?" she shot a cold glare at Lex and saw him further shut down internally - his mask of indifference solidly in place. She took her elbow back. "You think he saved your life once Lex," she added, "but he's rescued you more times than you'll ever know. Even at the height of your disagreements, of your fighting, he went into those tunnels by the dam to save you...it almost cost him his life and he did it anyway. He would go to the ends of the earth for you Lex, even as your enemy...the question is...will you do the same?" 

She walked out the office doors, down the long hallway lined in ancient stone, and towards the truck that waited for her in the driveway.


	3. Chapter 3

Even after Martha had left, her presence hung heavy in the mansion. Her pain and concern were palpable and Lex wondered, if Jonathan were still alive, would they have come to him? Would Jonathan put aside his hatred and come asking for help as Martha had? His wealth and resources were capable of a great many things, but if Clark didn't want to be found, Lex doubted that even he could find him.

He did have a great P.I. in his employ, but any snooping around Clark threatened to expose whatever his secret was. 

One thing was for sure, Lex wasn't getting any sleep that night. 

He and Lana hadn't said much after the visit. She had disappeared into the bowels of the mansion, and Lex didn't go after her. He remained in the study, pouring glass after glass of amber whiskey. Worry nagged at the pit of his stomach and he kept his cellphone perched expectantly on the coffee table between the crisp white sofas that framed the fireplace. His eyes were drawn to it over and over again, expecting Martha to call, relief laced into her voice as she explained Clark was found...but the phone never rang, the relief never arrived. 

Lex called his private eye and got him on the case, having his lawyers draw up an ironclad confidentiality contract. If his PI inadvertantly found something out about Clark or his secrets, he couldn't risk having them exposed. 

That wasn't Lex's greatest concern though. 

If Clark really was different from the average man, and someone in power figured that out, he could be in real danger. Luthor's blood ran cold as he finished his third tumbler of whiskey. If say, the military...found out about Clark's differences...he may be too deep down an experimental hole to ever be found. 

Lex shook his head and closed his eyes. He set the tumbler down with a clank and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was letting his theories get ahead of him. 

'The simplest answer is usually the right one,' he mentally chided himself. The odds were that Clark just picked up and took off to clear his head or something. Lex wanted to believe that, he really did, but...it didn't sit right in his chest. Martha was right, Clark wouldn't just leave his mother to sit and worry. That was cruel. Clark wasn't cruel. 

"God," Lex buried his face in his hands. What the hell happened? He had woken up that day as he had every day for the last several months - viewing Clark as his ex-best friend whom he really didn't give a shit about anymore. And with one visit, one sentence, everything changed. Now Lex was worried for Clark, wishing that the plaid-clad farmboy would come bursting into his study to accuse him of something. 

There was another alternative theory Lex had, but it scared him just as much as the military theory. 

Clark could have been taken by a psychopath. He could have been kidnapped by a serial killer.

The notion made Luthor's stomach churn. 

He had seen enough Dateline and 20/20 episodes. A man of the world rooted mainly in Metropolis, Lex was no stranger to darkness. He knew that the world was sick and twisted in a multitude of ways, and that luckily, his money and privilege had raised him above the fray of suffering that most had to endure. 

And if Clark had been nabbed by a nutcase or meteor freak...what were his odds? What would his kidnapper want? Would they know of his connection to Clark and squeeze himself for ransom money?

If that were the case, Lex would get a blank cashier's check in a heartbeat. 

That urge to come to Clark's rescue was growing stronger and stronger. The young man drove him absolutely nuts and they most certainly didn't see eye to eye of late, but he wouldn't hesitate to come to the hero's rescue. Would Lex even know what it would feel like to be the savior for once instead of the villain that Clark so often painted him as? 

How poetic would it be if it were one of the meteor freaks Clark had beleaguered him about locking away in Belle Reeve had actually taken him? 

Lex's temples were pounding and the ticking of the clock finally snapped him out of his nightmarish ideations of what could have happened to Clark. With some effort, he managed to stand and sway and begin stumbling towards his bedroom.

Rather than actually get ready for bed, Lex peeled off his clothes and let them fall to the floor in a littering of Versace and Gucci. He crashed into his bed and lay there in the dark, eyes open and searching the darkness for answers. He knew none would come, and neither would sleep.

\---

Clark learned really quickly that hope was a dangerous thing. Little slices of light, creaking floorboards, actually getting enough water and scraps of food, it all stoked a tiny flame of hope in his chest. And then when there was no light, when there were no unidentified sounds, when there was not enough water or food scraps, that hope rotted. And rotting hope, putrid and festering, was so devastating. 

One ray of hope was like taking a step forward, and that same hope dying, was like taking ten steps backwards. 

So Clark stopped hoping. He became a pessimist - expecting the worst and being pleasantly surprised when the worst was sidestepped somehow. 

Rather than focus on the pit of his cavernous and unhappy stomach, or the fact that he had to piss in a corner and sleep on the cold floor, Clark tried to gather information. His captor was chatty at times, when he was around. He had an air of cocky superiority and would wax on about his philosophies when he wasn't busy beating Kent up.


	4. Chapter 4

It took Lex a week, forty thousand dollars, and a P.I. to make any sort of headway. 

His stomach twisted in a knot as he trudged through the dark Kansas night. He was dressed in head-to-toe black, the moonlight not even daring to glint off his matte black Glock. His fight with Lana was still fresh in his mind. She had insisted on coming, and Lex denied her, sparking an intense argument. Even though she could handle her own, Lex didn't think she needed to be put in danger. And more than that...if he found something truly awful...well, he preferred to be alone. The last thing he needed was her to see his weakness, especially as it pertained to Clark.

Branches brushed past him, grabbing with stick fingers at his heavy jacket. 

Behind him was one of his best security men and in front of him were two more. 

They moved through the night, feet trampling dying fall leaves, heading in the direction the P.I. had pointed them. That P.I. was currently sitting in the back seat of a black SUV off route 9. "I don't get involved in missions," he had said and Lex didn't push it. He had enough men. 

The question was...were they going to find Clark? Was he still alive? Where was the sick fuck who took him? 

Lex attempted to push down the myriad of screaming questions that littered his mind and stay focused. He didn't know how many people had taken Clark or what they wanted. They could get lit up right here, out in the woods, and never even see it coming. If it weren't Clark we were talking about, Lex wouldn't be there at all because of the danger factor alone. 

Hell, he didn't even like Clark at this point...but Martha's plea remained fresh in his mind. It was only compounded by Lana's pleading looks. He was falling out of favor with his wife long before this, that much he knew already. Lana hadn't yet asked for a divorce, but Lex had seen the number of a divorce lawyer in her phone.

Finally, after about three miles of navigating the dark with night vision goggles, the man up front, Joseph, waved his hand. He found something. Lex's stomach leaped and his breath caught in his throat, terrified that it would be Clark's discarded body...but it wasn't. It was a door. Some sort of cellar entrance next to the destroyed remains of a cabin. 

The two men in front got their weapons ready, flung open the wooden doors that led to the downward staircase, and descended quickly. The guard behind him put his hand on Lex's arm, holding him back, a silent plea for him to wait, but he couldn't. He tore from his grasp and rushed forward. 

"It's clear," he heard the lead man say and his heart sank. 

How could the P.I. have been wrong? All of his research had pointed to this spot. 

It was a single room with stone walls. Dank. Cold. Dark except for the moonlight that ventured down the stairs after them. There was a white sheet hung on the right wall. Other than that, there was no sign of human life. 

Lex heard his heartbeat hammering in his ears as fury and panic swept through him. 

Suddenly, a projector sprang to life and scared the shit out of he and the other men. 

A man - a stranger - appeared on the white sheet. The light was blinding to the night vision goggles so Lex dragged them off his face. 

"Lexxx..." he said. "Oh, how I've waited. Well, I'm assuming this is you watching. I doubt the po-dunk Smallville po-lice managed to get here before you," the man leaned back. He was white, in his early 40s, Lex guessed. "It sure took you long enough though...poor Clark," he threw his hands up. "It's been what...ten days? About time." 

"Who the hell..." Lex muttered.

"Considering how many times Clark has saved you...you'd think that you would put a little bit more effort into saving him," the man with brown hair and brown eyes said. He then leaned forward, cupping his hand to the right side of his mouth as if he were telling a secret, "then again, I know you're not on the best terms."

The fury that bloomed in Lex's chest upon realizing Clark wasn't here, was now lit aflame by this complete stranger. The sheer audacity of revealing his face...of talking to Lex as if he knew him...

"You know... I bet you don't even know how many times Clark has saved you," the stranger sneered. "Let's see...it all started with the bridge. I definitely can't do this in order," he said to himself before continuing. "He saved you from your stalker...the whole ring of fire thing. He saved you from a sniper in Metropolis. He saved you when you got kidnapped and were hanging upside down at Club Zero. He saved you when that nut made it into Luthorcorp and he pulled you up off that falling walkway. He saved you from Lionel. He saved you from a different hostage situation at Luthorcorp. He tried to save you when your underground lab was collapsing...not really anticipating that his weakness was present."

Lex was dead silent, shock coursing through him. Not caring that his men were hearing this. The implications of what was being said...were unfathomable.

"He even busted you out of Belle Reeve before Daddy zapped you..."

Luthor's heart stuttered in his chest. 

"It's such a shame that those men got to him and stopped him from saving you. Tsk tsk tsk."

It felt impossible to breathe. Impossible to move. To think. 

Clark...Clark had saved him that much? What if this guy was lying? He had to be lying...

"And how did you repay poor little Clark?" Dramatic pause. "By stealing away his childhood sweetheart, by marrying his love. But the joke's on you really...because the one he truly wanted...well..."

The frame jolted and cut away to this very room. Clark was lying on the floor. Naked. Hard. He was fitfully sleeping, his head tossing, his mouth uttering one word - "Lex." Then the film cut back to the man.

"I expected Clark to cry out for someone...and he did. You. He has feelings for you and I bet you didn't even know it. You're too busy being mad at him all the time," the stranger pouted. "But don't fret, I left his...Lex-fueled jerk off sessions... on a CD on the floor, where Clark slept, for you to watch...later..." he smiled, the grin extending too far. "You should see him...when I talk of hurting you. He gets positively flustered," he licked his lips. 

"Well, I'd love to stay and chat," his hands clasped together, then came apart dramatically, "but I really should go before Kent starves to death or something. I do hope you find him soon. It's a shame how much he's suffered..." he said with mock sympathy. "I must say though...I never tire of looking at him...touching him...hearing him beg. It's delightful. He's such a snack," he enunciated the "-ack."

Lex's vision began to fuzz at the corners and he saw red. 

"Tah-tah," he waved. The message went off. Lex was left with a silent, musty, dark room. He was drowning in the implications of what this nut job has just said. And all this was...because of him? This guy was waiting for him to find Clark...which meant...this was his fault? Maybe he was some disgruntled Luhorcorp employee? 

And Clark...

This guy mentioned that Clark had a "weakness," which meant...he really did have powers or abilities or something. And this guy knows. He knows Clark's weakness. 

Lex felt like throwing up. 

He said he never "tired" of looking at Clark, of "touching" Clark...

The room began to go sideways. Lex took some steadying breaths, but he had to squat to keep from passing out. 

"Mr. Luthor, sir?" Joseph said from behind him. "Are you okay?"

Lex took a few more shaky breaths. "Yeah...yeah," he lied, reaching out and picking up a shiny silver CD in a clear case. "I'm fine."


	5. Chapter 5

Lex flipped the CD around in his hands. His heart hammered so loudly that he could practically see its beat. 

'I shouldn't watch this,' he thought, worrying his bottom lip. The stranger had said that it was "filled with Clark's...Lex-fueled jerk off sessions..."

Everything about the situation - about Clark's kidnapping - was fucked up. And yet...seeing that five second clip of Clark naked, sweating and hard - saying Lex's name.... It sent a jolt of arousal so strong through Lex that he thought he might die from it.

When Clark had first come crashing into his life, Lex had to work hard (very hard) to see him "like a brother." It's a phrase he had even used with Clark to cement a platonic relationship between them. And yet...Lex's obsession with him only grew and grew. He would never allow himself to fuck his hand or someone else with Clark in mind...not while he was conscious. But in his dreams, Clark sprang to life in the most un-brotherly of ways. 

Lex had spent every second of every minute of the last six years shoving away his attraction to Clark. He'd used every excuse in the books. 1) He was too young 2) He was too secretive 3) He wasn't gay, he was so into Lana that it was gross 4) He would corrupt the young man.

Then, as the years passed, it turned into a different list. 1) He was a bastard and a liar 2) He saw the world in ridiculous, clear cut black and white terms 3) He still probably wasn't gay 4) and he would force Lex to change his ways or at least his methods.

Now all the lists were out the window. Everything changed if Clark was sexually attracted to him...

'No, no, that was ridiculous,' he thought. 

Clark was such a shitty liar. There's no way that he could have hid an attraction like that for so many years. He dug his nails into his hand so hard they almost bled.

No way he could have hid that. Unless...unless Clark didn't realize that attraction until later; until their friendship was already fractured and shattered. 

Lex's brows knitted and he flipped open his laptop screen, moving on autopilot.

Then again, Clark was only a terrible liar when it came to things he was questioned about. Like, "how did you get here so fast?" "why do you never catch colds?" "did I hit you with my Porsche at 60 mph?" 

Lex had never questioned his sexuality. Aside from Lana, he didn't even know if Clark experienced sexuality. Was it possible he was only a Lana-sexual?

Fuck. 

While he was thinking, he had slipped the CD into the player and a new screen popped up on his laptop. It was now or never. He could shut it down. Or pause the screen. His finger hovered over the touchpad.

He couldn't stop it. The curiosity was too great.

The angle was different from the shot that Lex was shown in the cellar, but it was still Clark, still naked, tossing and turning from a bad dream. His legs were chained to the wall. He had no pillow, no clothes. His skin was battered and bruised and had a sickly greenish tint. 

Lex's stomach dropped. 

Clark was muttering Lex's name in his sleep. It lasted for about ten seconds.

Then the shot cut and morphed into a different one. The stranger was talking to Clark. The stranger didn't look into the camera and it appeared that Clark didn't even know it was there. 

"So you'd rather I keep you forever than me kill Lex?" 

"Yes," Clark gritted. 

"What is it with you two? I mean, I've seen plenty inside your head...but I still don't get it."

Seen inside his head? What did that mean?"

Clark looked down and to the left, his eyes glittering as if he were about to cry. His jaw was clenched so tight that the tendons were visible beneath his taut skin.

"My favorite things to look at in your head are your little, erm, fantasies about him," he gesticulated with a sick smile.

Clark looked up at him with murder in his eyes. 

"You have quite a filthy imagination there, Clark," he beamed. "Fucking Luthor over the hood of his Ferrari...bending him over the pool table...sucking him off in the hot tub...fucking him up against a post in your loft. Beating the shit out of him only to let him fuck you."

"You have no fucking right to look inside my head," Clark was shaking and tears cascaded over his trembling lips. The stranger walked closer to Clark. 

"Oh Clark," the stranger walked towards him and tilted his chin up. "I can do whatever I like with you. We've already established that." 

The clip cut. Lex's blood boiled. Tears slid down his own cheeks and he didn't realize it until he felt the cold on his face.

This guy could see inside of Clark's mind? Clark would offer himself up as a sacrifice for Lex? Clark had thought of doing those things to him? 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

The next shot was Clark on his back, it was dark, but there was enough light to see what was going on. Clark was sleeping, calling for Lex in his sleep. He was hard. Hips thrusting into nothing. 

Lex felt his face heat. 

The clip cut. It was a different night. Clark was facing the wall, his right arm trapped under his body, his left arm moving. His muscled back strained. Dimples at hip level, and lower... 

Lex clenched his jaw so tight that it could snap wire. 

Clark rolled over, past lying on his back, then lying on his left side, switching hands, facing the camera. No way he knew it was there or he would never...

His hand moved over his swollen sex, his breath picking up speed with his movements. 

'This wasn't...Lex-fueled...it was just Clark...jerking off,' Lex thought

Except now Clark's mouth was moving. Wordlessly at first. And then...there it was...the tiniest uttered, "Lexxxx" the x's drawn out as Clark came. 

Luthor reached a hand up and snapped the laptop shut violently. He moved his hands over his face to steady himself, but the room felt as if it were spinning. All of his blood had travelled south and his panting sounded deafeningly loud in his wood-clad study. 

He wanted to pace. He wanted to scream. He wanted to drink two more glasses of whisky on top of the two he'd already had. All he could focus on though was the steady thrum of arousal. 

'What kind of a sick fuck am I?" Lex thought. Clark was out there, scared to death - hopefully still alive - and he was...hard. His hand itched to relieve his current predicament. 

He hated Clark's captor with the fire and fury of a thousand suns. How dare that bastard...he had to have known the effect these multitude of revelations would have on him. He knew that he'd watch that CD and that it would affect him this way. Sick asshole.

Lex slammed a fist onto his desk and tears stung at his eyes. 

Clark was never the monster. He was. 

His long elegant fingers went to his belt, and then his fly. 

Clark wanted him. Clark fantasized about fucking him and vice versa.

All of the daydreams that Lex had forbidden himself from touching came pouring out of his subconscious and out into the realm of reality. All the things that Clark had wanted - he wanted too.

He pushed his pants and boxers to his mid thigh and began stroking himself. All he could hear was Clark's pleas, his breathless requests. All he could picture was Clark on his side, his huge hand working quickly. Lex's hand moved just as fast now. Clark with his swollen lips parted in ecstasy. Clark with his emerald green eyes glittering even in the darkness before he screwed them shut and came onto his own chest and the floor.

It didn't take Lex long... he came so hard that his vision narrowed and his ears rang. 

When he was done, he cleaned himself up, tucked himself away, zipped and buttoned his pants, returned his belt...and, finally, slammed another furious hand on his desk.

He felt dirty. He felt like Clark's captor. He felt like the stranger's prisoner. 

He swore. 

He drank another tumbler of whiskey. 

He paced. 

He finally returned to his seat. 

He had to finish watching. The CD wasn't done and if there were any clues...

With his dinner threatening to come up his throat, Lex's shaky hand opened the laptop. The video was paused. He hit play. There wasn't much left to see.

It cut to the stranger standing in front of a freshly beaten Clark. Kent had a black eye, a split lip, his right hand was clutching at his abdomen. 

"You know what the best part of all this is?" the stranger asked. Clark stayed silent, refusing to play along.

"The best part of this is that Lex will realize everything," he threw his hands up. "He'll realize that you're the hero. He'll realize how much you've saved him...and...and you love him, don't you?" 

Silence.

"You have nothing to lose. Just say it. You love him don't you?" 

Clark gulped, his lip trembling, so he bit it hard. He fidgeted then finally answered..."Yes," it was a whisper.

"You know what the crazy thing is Clark?" the stranger grinned widely, having gotten his prize. "He loves you too." 

Clark's eyes went wide, the hatred and disinterest slipping from them. 

"Oh, you can't be shocked by that. Lex so, so greatly desires you Clark. Oh, he wants you so badly that he won't even allow himself to think of kissing you. He loves you and love is weakness in a Luthor's eyes."

"You're lying," Clark squeaked, his voice broken. 

The stranger quickly took a step forward and hit Clark across the face. "I don't lie," he deadpanned. "I've been in his head too. He's so terrified of how strong his desire for you is that he won't even let himself touch it. He keeps it neatly tucked in a far away corner of his mind so that it won't consume him body and soul."

Clark was shaking his head, 'no.' "But...he hates me," he said more to himself than the stranger.

"Ah, how much easier is it to hate than to love? Pushing someone away is easy. Breaking apart your friendship is easier than pulling you in. Not to mention, you broke his heart by refusing to tell him your secrets."

"I kept him alive by not telling him my secrets."

"Of course, Clark, the constant hero!" he waved his arms in exasperation. "Well, guess what? Now that you've realized he returns your dirty daydreams and deep affections. Now that he realizes you love him. Now that all the cards are on the table... now it's time to die." 

Clark's face blanched and he wriggled backwards. 

"I'm not going to spoil the ending and tell you who I intend to kill - you or Lex - I want it to be a surprise!" he clapped.

"Wh-"

"Shhh, let me finish," he gleamed with excitement. "The best part of this is that whoever dies, gets off easy...because the one left alive...well...they're going to have to live the rest of their life suffering at the hands of all these revelations. The question now is who will it be?" he giggled. "The heartbroken billionaire or the not-quite-human hero?" 

Clark was silently crying, his body shaking like a leaf. He was three shades too pale and looking greener than ever. Shock was etched into every corner of his thinning face.

"Oh, you're surprised that I know you're not human?" the stranger laughed. It was a metallic, menacing sound. "I know everything Clark," he howled, hands outstretched. Then he turned to face the camera and began walking towards it. "And now...so does Lex." He reached a hand out and the screen went black.

Lex had forgotten how to breathe. An invisible hand strangled his throat, pressed against his heart, wrung his stomach like a cloth. He stood, but the room tilted. His breathing was too fast. His hand slipped from the corner of the desk as he walked around it. A knock came at the study door but Lex didn't hear it. The door opened. 

"Lex?" a familiar voice. 

He was stumbling away from his desk, tears running down his face like a faucet had been left on. His heart stuttered in his chest, flipping and palpitating. He grasped at his chest as he tried to suck in steadier breaths. The study was blurring because of tears and dizziness and Lana was rushing towards him. She got there just in time, managing to sort of hold onto Lex as he slid to the floor. 

Clark saved him. Clark loved him. Clark wasn't human. One of them was going to die. 

"Lex, you're hyperventilating," he heard Lana say before everything went black.


	6. Chapter 6

Lex awoke with a start. His heart smacked violently against his ribcage as if he'd just been submerged underwater and then drug up to air. He gasped awake and felt a searing pain bloom in his skull. Blinking several times, he came to the terrifying realization that he was no longer in the mansion. The last thing he remembered was hyperventilating as he trudged towards a worried Lana. 

So where the fuck was he now? Because this gray ceiling and buzzing fluorescent lights certainly didn't belong to him. 

With a wince, he turned his head and his gray eyes landed upon Clark. He sat up too quickly, despite the pain screaming through his body, and realized that he was chained to the floor and to the wall behind his back. 

Confusion twisted to panic as he realized that he was now a captive of the stranger. He locked eyes with Clark who was wide eyed and sitting up in the middle of the room, chained to the floor himself. "Lex," the farm boy breathed. "Are you okay?" 

"Me?" Lex swallowed. "Are...are you?" His eyes swept over his former friend who was dressed in his usual blue jeans and red plaid shirt. The clothes were ill fitting. He had lost weight or muscle mass or both. "I've been looking everywhere for you," Lex admitted, his voice nearly breaking. 

"Did he...did he hurt you?" It was a stupid question...one he already knew the answer to. He'd seen the cuts and bruises. Hell, even now, he could see the split in Clark's lower lip, the bloom of purple around his jaw, a cut on his brow. "I mean...did he...touch you?" The word 'rape' wanted to come up, but it was bunched up in his throat, making him choke. 

Clark's cracked lips parted to say something but the sound of a door swinging open cut him off. 

"Sleeping Beauty is finally awake!" the stranger bellowed. "So nice of you to join us Lex. A little pathetic that I had to bring you here myself...but beggars can't be choosers." 

Lex twisted towards the man. "Who the fuck are you," he spat with as much vitriol as his voice would allow. 

"I'm no one in particular." 

"Bullshit. Are you a former employee? A disgruntled LuthorCorp victim? I know one thing for sure...you're a meteor -..."

"What? Freak? Can't really call me that anymore can you? Not knowing that Clark is the biggest freak of all..."

"Shut the fuck up," Lex could feel his blood boil. "I don't care what the fuck you are. What I know for sure is that you're a kidnapper...a tormentor...a voyeur...probably a rapist...and I'm going to ring your fucking neck with my bare hands." 

By the time he'd finished his tirade, Lex was shaking. 

"You know...it's funny...because before I enlightened you...before I told you Clark's secrets...you hated him! You probably didn't even know he was missing for several days, did you? Because you were too busy being mad at him. And for what? You call me the monster, but aren't you one too?" The man walked towards him. His hair was black and his eyes were such a dark brown that they appeared black as well. He crouched down in front of Lex, emboldened by the fact that Luthor's hands and legs were chained. 

"Can you honestly look me in the eye Lex and tell me that *you* have never kidnapped anyone? You who has been collecting meteor freaks like Pokemon and putting them in Belle Reeve?! Not to mention...you've killed before...haven't you? Remember Daddy dearest? And how many people have *you* tormented? Has LexCorp tormented? How many unethical experiments have you run?" 

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about..."

"You're right, I don't. I can just see your memories." 

Lex swallowed thickly. 

"You always thought you were doing the right thing. Get the meteor freaks help and get them off the street. Kill Daddy who touched you, crawled into bed with you... Who raised with you without an ounce of real affection?" 

"Shut up," it was a deadly whisper. 

"Oh Lex, the unveiling of secrets go both ways. To be fair, I don't blame you for killing Lionel."

Lex couldn't look at Clark, but he felt the weight of his gaze.

"Don't worry, I won't put you through listening as I tell Clark your secrets. Most of them don't even matter and I've already told him the ones that do." 

"Why are you doing this? Is it to torture him? Or me?" 

"Oh, in due time Lexie...all will be revealed," he stood and walked towards Clark, who instantly winced. The image of Kent small and battered, fear evident on his face, would haunt Lex's memory until the day he died. A murderous urge roared up his chest and reflected on his features. 

"If you fucking hurt him..."

"It's a little late for that," the stranger laughed as he ran a hand through Clark's hair. "Did you notice? I got him all nice to see you?" 

Lex could barely breathe through his anger. 

"I gave him a bath, got his clothes cleaned...and before one of you dies...I think we should have a little fun." 

His breathing picked up and his vision narrowed. 

"I've done things with Clark here...sexually...but I saved his ass for this." 

Lex lunged forward, the chains rattling as they snapped taut. "I swear to God..." he began a threat, but wasn't sure how to finish it, or if he could. He was scared in a way that he'd never been before. If it was his life on the line, if it was him about to be raped, he would be scared - but not this terrified. The thought of this sicko harming Clark...it made him go out of his mind. 

The stranger began unbuttoning Clark's flannel shirt and Kent closed his eyes. 

"You...you brought me here to make me watch you rape him?" This was a nightmare. It had to be. 

The man pushed Clark to lie on his back and began on his pants. "Maybe. Maybe not," he undid the button and slid down the zipper. It sounded ungodly loud in the small gray, windowless room. He had undone the fastenings, but rather than pull the jeans down, he rubbed his hand along Clark's thighs. "Oh Lex...you should see the things he's thought about," the stranger purred. "And I wonder what he'd think about your daydreams..."

"I - I'll give you whatever you want. You can have me. You can have money. Hell, you can have LexCorp...just leave him the fuck alone." 

The stranger ignored him and continued on as if Lex had said nothing. "You've had quite the dreams about Clark, haven't you Lex?" 

"You don't belong in my head..."

"It is a rather dark place. The suicide attempts were a surprise." 

Whatever words Lex had died instantly. Clark, who's head was turned in the opposite direction due to his embarrassment, rolled towards Lex. A look of shock was written on his face. 

"But your dreams about Clark...fuck..." 

"Stop." 

"The harder you tried not to jerk off thinking of him, the worse things got. The more strangers you fucked. The more you dreamt of him at night." 

He was rubbing Clark through his jeans now.

"My favorite is your dream when you show him your little secret room." 

Lex sucked in a breath, knowing where this was going next. He was desperate to stop this, all of it, but had no control. 

"You two get in an argument that ends with him bent over the hood of your ruined Porsche." 

"STOP." 

"You think what? That you'll fuck the secrets out of him? That you'll punish him for lying to you with your cock?" 

"I'm not a rapist." 

"Of course, in your dream he consented," he pulls down Clark's jeans and he's not wearing boxers. Clark's large cock springs up and hits his belly as the jeans are dragged away.

"I'll tell you what Lexie...I'll give you a choice...either you can sit there and watch me take his ass..."

"Or?" 

"Or I'll unchain you and you can take his ass." 

"I'm not a rapist." 

"Lex..." Clark whispers his name. It's a plea riddled with desperation. "Please. I need you." 

The room seemed to shrink as the weight of their situation sank in. The stranger undid Clark's cuffs to get the shirt off then reattached them. He did the same with the jeans. Clark didn't even put up a fight. It was like he didn't even have the strength to do so. He still had a sickly green tint to his skin and without his clothes, Lex could clearly see how much weight he'd lost. He tried not to look, but it was difficult with the fluorescent lights glinting off his flesh. He needed to scan his body, to look for cuts and bruises and determine just how slowly he would kill this stranger.

Now, Clark's back was against the cold concrete floor and between Lex's gaze and the stranger's earlier massage, he was half hard. It was gut wrenching to ask Lex what he needed to ask, but he had to do it. 

"Looks like Lex has made his choice," now the stranger's hands were on his bare thighs. 

"No. No. Nonono. Lex..." his voice split. "I need you to do this. You have to do this so that he doesn't. Please." 

"I can't rape you Clark."

"It's not rape Lex. I consent. I consent to you. But not to him."

Lex hated that he was considering it. He hated that he was hard. 

The stranger reached for Clark's cock and Lex surged forward. "Fine... yes...I'll..."

"You'll fuck him?" 

He worried his lip before finally answering, "yes."


End file.
